Perfect Partners(11)
Author: Carly Phillips

“Absolutely not.” With another sigh, she released her hair from its binding. She ran her fingers through the tangled strands. “I said I’d like to help with Alix, but I didn’t envision a scheduled commitment, one that she’d come to rely on.” Her expressive eyes glazed over and she looked beyond him to a picture on the wall.

Another woman who couldn’t handle the complications of both Griff and his niece. He should have known better than to think he could change Chelsie’s mind. All the cajoling and mutual desire in the world wouldn’t alter the status quo.

“I’ve got to get back to Alix. I heard your reasons and I accept them. Thanks anyway.” Exhaustion overcame him, seeping in like a familiar but unwelcome visitor. He’d groveled enough for one evening, and he still had to make it through another sleepless night.

Chelsie followed him down the small entryway, holding the door open as he stepped into the hall. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she looked distraught. But he had to be mistaken. Of the two of them, he’d been the one put through the emotional wringer tonight. She’d merely had the pleasure of watching.

“ ‘Night, Chelsie.” He strode toward the bank of elevators.

“Griff?”

At the sound of her soft voice, he turned. “Yes?” A glimmer of hope flickered to life inside him.

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, shaking her head instead. Alone in the empty hallway, she appeared small and frail, in need of protection, of his arms wrapped around her slender waist. The elevator door opened, preventing him from acting on his unwanted desires.

Griff steeled himself against his warring emotions and stepped inside without looking back. He leaned against the grimy wall and punched the lobby key with more force than necessary.

When would he learn? Though he thought he’d lost his ability to trust, part of him must have foolishly believed in Chelsie or else he wouldn’t have come. He’d sensed an emotional connection between his niece and the lady lawyer. Alix’s aunt, he reminded himself.

As a result, he’d nurtured a silent wish that Chelsie would turn out to be different from the other women he’d known.

He stifled a bitter laugh. Chelsie wasn’t different, just better at stringing him along. She had no more interest in Alix than her parents had.

* * *

Chelsie’s hands shook as she poured herself a cup of herbal tea. Any residual effects of her relaxation session were long gone. Stress and tension coiled every muscle in her body. The look of disappointment in Griff’s eyes had nearly destroyed her.

When had his opinion begun to count? When she kissed him? Felt the length of his body pressed against hers? Or when she’d responded to him in a way she’d never felt before?

She lifted the mug and the tea sloshed over the side. Men aren’t supposed to matter, dammit. But this one did and so did her niece. How could she tell him the truth, that she feared developing an emotional bond with Alix—and Griff—only to have them ripped from her at his whim? Regardless of the fact that he needed her now, they’d part in the end. His abrupt ending to the kiss, something she should have done much sooner, assured her of that.

She’d always be a peripheral part of Alix’s life. She wanted a relationship with her sister’s little girl. But if she allowed herself to be a daily part of Alix’s life, if she allowed herself to become truly attached, the resulting emptiness would be like reliving her own worst nightmare. Her miscarriage and the abuse that precipitated it had been traumatic enough, but the doctor’s pronouncement that she’d never have another baby had shattered her dreams and changed her life. She’d learned not to hope for what couldn’t be.

Griff and Alix were a ready-made family, the type of family Chelsie would never have. Knowingly placing herself in a position that guaranteed emotional pain was plain stupid. She’d done the right thing. She would still see her niece, but on her terms. Safe terms.

Yet the look in Griff’s eyes… he and Alix were suffering. Though Chelsie doubted she represented the solution Griff so desperately needed, he believed she did, enough to put aside his lingering doubts and place Alix in her care. That sort of trust ought to mean something, she thought, coming no closer to a decision.

How could she place her heart in such jeopardy? How could she not?

* * *

Dusk was beginning to fall when Chelsie pulled up to the big house with the freshly painted white picket fence surrounding the front yard. Potted red geraniums, just beginning to flower, lined the three front steps leading to the screened-porch door. A child couldn’t pick a more cheerful place to grow up, which, Chelsie surmised, was why Griff had chosen it. Clichéd but perfect, nevertheless.

She took the bluestone walkway at a brisk pace, afraid she might turn and run otherwise. Not only was this house a child’s dream, but a family couldn’t find a more comforting place to build memories.

Mrs. Baxter let her in with a huge smile and warm welcome and directed Chelsie to follow her inside.

“Admit it, you coward. You aren’t afraid of his reaction to your showing up without calling again. You’re afraid his offer is still open,” Chelsie muttered to herself.

“Did you say something?” The older woman stopped halfway down the hall and turned to Chelsie.

“I said I’m sorry to keep showing up unexpectedly.” She forced a smile.

“Nonsense. Just follow me. They’re in here.” Mrs. Baxter gestured toward an arched entryway. “You’re just what this family needs.”

Her words propelled Chelsie into motion. She pivoted on her heels, intending to hightail it back to her car. She could be safely ensconced in her office by eight. Work still needed to be done. Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Wasn’t there a saying like that?

She had taken one step when Mrs. Baxter called a halt to her cowardly retreat. “Alix, someone special’s here to see you.”

Chelsie had nowhere to run or hide. Reluctantly, she turned back again.

“She doesn’t let that book you brought her out of her sight,” the woman said, a kind smile etching her features.

“Oh.” Chelsie’s legs felt wobbly. She’d passed the point where she could exit gracefully. Drawing a deep breath, she followed Mrs. Baxter into the kitchen. She only hoped Griff’s mood was brighter than her own.

“I said eat it, don’t throw it.”

Chelsie stopped in the doorway and stared in disbelief as Griff wiped mashed potatoes off his face and shirt collar.